


Downtime

by Pegasicorn



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Feels, Fever, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Alternating, Sick Character, Sickfic, all the feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 05:51:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10984695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pegasicorn/pseuds/Pegasicorn
Summary: “It’s starting to get late. Maybe we should look for a place to stop for the night and keep going in the morning…”Liam silently agreed with the sniper’s words, feeling no need to voice his agreement out loud. He didn’t wish to talk any more than necessary at the moment anyway.Ugh. This damn headache.





	Downtime

**Author's Note:**

> This thing. Just wouldn't end. It was supposed to be this short oneshot. Liam gets sick, Mac worries, maybe there's some silly fever talk…recovery, end.
> 
> OBVIOUSLY THIS HAD OTHER IDEAS.
> 
> Ignore any inaccuracies medical-wise. I did some research but I’m no expert andpracticedabitofeducatedbullshit*cough* >>
> 
> Enjoy this...something that it became. I don't even know.

“It’s starting to get late. Maybe we should look for a place to stop for the night and keep going in the morning…”

 

Liam silently agreed with the sniper’s words, feeling no need to voice his agreement out loud. He didn’t wish to talk any more than necessary at the moment anyway.

 

Ugh. This damn headache.

 

It had been with him all day, starting out as a slight bit of pressure that he assumed was from not getting enough sleep the past few nights. It had happened before as eventful days built up. Sometimes they went away or faded enough for him to ignore, coming back by the time evening rolled around again. It just meant he’d need to sleep earlier (or at least enough) and it would be gone the next day.

 

But this time it hadn’t left or even dulled in the slightest. Instead, it had slowly worsened, making it a little harder to concentrate as they traveled. Luckily, they had cleared out this area fairly recently so it was relatively calm sailing. He wondered if MacCready had noticed he had been more quiet than usual today. Or occasionally falling behind like he was right now--

 

His boot caught a dip in the uneven road.

 

As the world started to tip, he was vaguely aware of an alarmed voice accompanied by hurried footsteps before he landed face first into a hard surface.

 

But...that didn’t feel like the ground. While there was a firmness, it wasn’t the rock-like hardness of road paving, and nowhere near rough enough.

 

Curiosity compelled his eyes to peel open to see what was in front of them.

 

Faded mottled tan with a distinct musty scent--

 

Oh.

 

He was looking at worn out leather.

 

Because he had faceplanted into MacCready’s shoulder.

 

Apparently the sniper had caught him before he could hit the ground.

 

“What the hell, Liam? What’s going on with you? You’ve been out of it almost all day, and now you’re tripping over your own feet?”

 

He wanted to answer; he really did. Say he hadn’t actually tripped over his own feet, but a bit of rough ground he hadn’t noticed. The sniper would buy that since Liam had a habit of getting too focused to see everything around him. But he found he couldn’t manage more than a small sound from his throat that was little more than a groan. It was almost pathetic really. Where had his strength gone?

 

Hands went to his shoulders to push him back, firmly but not roughly, so the sniper could give him a frown. He wasn’t sure what his face looked like right now, but apparently it wasn’t good, because MacCready went from having a frown of concern to one of mild alarm.

 

He closed his eyes as a rough palm went to his forehead, taking comfort in the coolness of it.

 

“Shi--...damn. You’re burning up.”

 

Huh. That would explain why that hand felt almost cold.

 

The palm slid to his cheek, prompting him to crack open his eyes again to meet darker blue.

 

“Why didn’t you say something?”

 

\---

 

He didn’t like the dazed appearance those normally bright eyes had.

 

MacCready was mentally kicking himself for not noticing sooner. Of course Liam wouldn’t have said anything; he hardly ever shared his problems with anyone else. He might share a few things about himself to relate to others and possibly be more persuasive if it was called for. But with actual burdens he was facing or lamenting over? It was like pulling teeth, normally taking a lot of prompting to get him to talk. The man could be downright stubborn when he wanted to be, but the sniper had figured him out.

 

Or so he’d thought.

 

Liam was alarmingly hot--and not in a good way--and he wouldn’t have realized had he not almost fallen on his face. Sure, he had noticed the blonde seemed a little more out of it than usual, but he figured it was because something must be on his mind, or he was a little distracted like he sometimes was. There were days he would walk right into some lurking danger, only seeing it at the last second or when it tried to take out a chunk of him. Cue the panic flailing wakeup call.

 

It was lucky nothing had tried that today if this was the reason he had been less focused.

 

One thing was certain. Stopping wasn’t just a suggestion now; it was a necessity.

 

He sighed patiently. “Come on, Cowboy, let’s find somewhere to rest.”

 

\---

 

He gently set a damp cloth on Liam’s forehead, almost expecting to hear it sizzle. Of course it didn’t. That would have been silly. Not to mention cause for panic.

 

Not that MacCready wasn’t fighting to maintain his cool.

 

They had ducked into an abandoned building, somehow managing to make it onto an upper floor--miraculous that they’d made it since the blonde had to be half-carried to avoid hitting the ground for real this time--to seek shelter for the night. It wasn’t actually that far from Sanctuary; a few hours of travel at most. But with Liam’s current state? The sniper wasn’t taking any chances. He already hated traveling at night when there was less visibility and thus a higher chance of being jumped by pretty much anything. Add in practically dragging along a sick person and one would clearly be asking for trouble.

 

MacCready ran the back of his hand along an inflamed cheek, feeling the heat radiate from it. He had dropped off fast. Hell, he’d been so out of it by the time they reached the top of the stairs, the sniper was hardly surprised. It had been a challenge just to remove his long battlecoat before he completely passed out. Whatever this was, it was kicking the sh--crap out of Liam. It was giving him flashbacks to the time Duncan had been seriously ill…

 

The sniper shook his head to dispel that train of thought. Liam wasn’t dying from an incurable disease. It was just some bug caught out in the wasteland. It was bound to happen sooner or later, what with everything they did; all the traveling, all the battles on the road... Surprising he hadn’t gotten sick more often since he wasn’t technically from here. Or maybe that _was_ the reason he never really got sick. People had to be a lot healthier back before the war. He assumed so anyway…

 

And he was mentally babbling. That was what this worry was doing to him. He just...didn’t really know what to do. Try to cool Liam down, sure...but what else? He was no doctor. What he wouldn’t give to have Curie here. She’d know what to do. She had even helped MacCready fairly recently when he’d gotten a cold. This didn’t have the signs of a cold; it was mainly a fever that seemed to be sapping Liam’s strength. Or the cause of the fever might be sapping his strength. That was what concerned him the most. What could be causing it…

 

If he wasn’t worried something might sneak in here while his partner was too weak to defend himself, he would seriously consider running to Sanctuary just to get Cur--

 

_Woof!_

 

MacCready was on his feet in less than a second, rifle pointed at the stairs, ready to end whatever dared creep up on--

 

There was rhythmic tapping that grew louder as it approached before a furry dark and tan face peeked over the top step.

 

A mixture of disbelief and relief flooded him as he lowered his weapon.

 

“Dogmeat?”

 

He’d never been so glad to see the mutt in his life.

 

Hearing his name, the canine bounded over happily to say hi as the sniper knelt to greet him. “How the heck’d you find us, boy?”

 

He didn’t expect an answer--and would blame it on stress if he got one--but swore the dog’s silly canine smile grew a little more into a smirk. He shouldn’t be surprised the dog found them really. Liam had told him of the time Dogmeat’s help was needed to track down his son’s kidnapper, and as if the universe had sent a message, there he was ready to help. He’d picked up the scent rather miraculously, too, by the sounds of it.

 

Dogmeat stopped happily panting and lolling his tongue as he turned his brown gaze towards Liam, whining in what MacCready took as curious concern as he looked at the sleeping form.

 

Turning somber again, he rested a hand on the dog’s head as he looked over himself. “Yea...your master’s not doing too great right now, boy. He could really use some help.”

 

Wait. Some help?

 

He looked back at the canine with a thoughtful expression, getting a curious headtilt in return.

 

Maybe Dogmeat could do something…

 

Frowning, he debated on the best way to go about this. There were two--no, three possible solutions here, all of them carrying some degree of danger.

 

The least dangerous would be to send Dogmeat off to get help. That way MacCready could keep watch over Liam, both protecting him from threats and keeping an eye on him in case things took a turn. Only problem was, Dogmeat couldn’t talk. He might be able to get someone to follow him back, but he couldn’t explain what was going on, so he might not be able to get the right person to follow.

 

Another option would be for MacCready to go himself. He’d be able to get someone here to help, possibly getting more than just Curie to come with him and help him transport Liam back if needed. But could Dogmeat handle guarding him on his own? He was just one dog. There was only so much he could do in combat. Not to mention if Liam suddenly took a turn for the worse…

 

That left the third and decidedly most dangerous solution. Not Dogmeat going for help, nor MacCready going either. But _both_ of them heading back and bringing Liam with them. The sniper figured if he could carry Liam piggyback style and have Dogmeat watch for danger as they carefully ran back, they could get the blonde to help instead of bringing it to him. It was the fastest solution, but easily the riskiest. It didn’t matter how recently they had cleared the area; there was always that chance that something could happen. Especially at night.

 

MacCready really wished for a second opinion right now. But it wasn’t likely he would get one.

 

He sighed, giving the dog a quick scratch on the head when he received a curious whine, before moving back towards the blonde’s side to brush a hand against his cheek again. Whatever he decided on, he wanted to let Liam know before it was enacted. Who knows--maybe he really could get some extra incite--

 

Wait.

 

He frowned, cupping his hand more against the inflamed cheek.

 

Was he imagining it, or was Liam shivering?

 

Quickly, he lifted the no-longer-cool damp rag from the blonde’s forehead, replacing it with his palm instead. MacCready mentally cursed. He was definitely getting warmer. This was not good. They might need to go with the third plan anyway. If he was getting worse, there was no time to lose.

 

“Dogmeat.”

 

The canine lifted his head higher, ears alert.

 

“Be on guard. We’re heading out.”

 

That earned him a soft “wuff” of agreement, the dog turning towards the stairs as he waited patiently.

 

He hated to wake him; he really did. But if they were going to get out of here, there was no choice. He didn’t want to chance carrying Liam in his arms--he doubted he was strong enough to do that--so he’d need to get the blonde awake just enough that he could get him on his back instead. Would he even be coherent enough with how high his fever was getting though?

 

“Hey,” he spoke softly as he set a hand on his cheek, not wanting to startle him awake. “Come on, Cowboy. We need to head out.”

 

There was a soft groan as his eyelids twitched slightly. MacCready wasn’t sure he was actually stirring and was about to try again, when pale blue slowly cracked open, taking a minute to blearily focus on him.

 

He immediately felt guilty for waking him, but they really couldn’t stay here any longer. This was the quickest way to get medical help to Liam.

 

Aside from a vertibird, his mind pointed out. But he wasn’t sure Liam was even carrying any signal grenades, another part of his mind shot back. He usually did, it argued again. Well...yes, he usually did have a few on him, but the short distance it would need to travel was ridiculous compared to the wait time for it to arrive, he shot back again. Besides, this wasn’t a good spot for one to land. He would’ve needed to lug the blonde out of here anyway, not to mention boarding and later departing the vertibird. Maybe if Liam could actually walk on his own...but that was doubtful at this point, what with the way the sniper had needed to almost drag him up into this building. He would need to get the pilot’s help.

 

And there was the mental rambling again. He had to keep his cool since Liam wasn’t...well, _cool_. Literally. His eyes also kept unfocusing, like he wasn’t fully with it. From how hot his head seemed, MacCready wasn’t surprised. All the more reason to make haste.

 

He tried getting his attention again. Dogmeat must be getting antsy to move out. Frankly, he was too. “Hey. Come on,” he repeated, waiting for that cloudy gaze to be directed at him before continuing. “We’re gonna go home. Get Curie to look at you.”

 

Those eyes just kept looking at him blearily, so he wasn’t sure if Liam understood or not. Either way, they needed to move, so he slid an arm behind his shoulders and carefully got him to sit up so he could get his coat back on.

 

It felt wrong needing to slip his arms through the sleeves for him like he was a child. He didn’t really want to add an extra layer of clothing either as that would heat Liam up more, but with the ballistic material woven into it, it would add extra protection, and that was never a bad thing. Besides, the shivering would already be heating him up more. It wasn’t like the coat was more harmful at this point. The militia hat (though it looked more cowboy, which fit the nickname he called his partner by) he kept tucked away in his duster instead of putting back on the blonde’s head.

 

He made no fuss; just watched what the sniper was doing in a daze. Even when prompted to get onto MacCready’s back so he could carry him, he didn’t protest. He just slipped his arms around his shoulders and let himself be positioned better to be lifted up. This was ringing so many alarm bells in MacCready’s head right now. He barely acknowledged that Liam was a lot lighter than he thought he was; easy to forget he was a pretty skinny guy, though not the beanpole the sniper was.

 

Dogmeat glanced back, seeing the sniper on his feet again and beginning to head his way, taking that as his cue to start down the stairs.

 

Liam seemed to finally notice they were going somewhere. “Where’re...we…”

 

MacCready maintained his patience as he mentally worried at the heat radiating off the other. “I told you. We’re going home.”

 

“...but...you’re here…”

 

“...yea…” He wasn’t sure what the blonde meant by that. _Did_ he actually mean something by that? It could just be fever talk. People tended to say strange things when they were delirious. It was similar to being drunk in a way. Except more concerning.

 

“...you’re home…”

 

Now he was just confused. “Um...no, I’m...with you.” What was going on?

 

“...yea…” The word was sighed into his shoulder.

 

“...” When he received no elaboration--not that he expected much from the feverish--MacCready turned his head slightly, being careful not to misstep as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Seemed he wouldn’t get an explanation.

 

Liam was asleep.

 

The sniper sighed softly, worry growing by the minute. But he couldn’t shake his curiosity.

 

What had the blonde meant by that? Would he even remember?

 

MacCready hoped to find out later.

 

\---

 

This was turning into the longest walk home the sniper had ever faced. Despite the alertness of Dogmeat as he led the way, picking out what was proving to be the calmest route he could find--MacCready would be pampering the pooch when this was done--he couldn’t help being on edge, jumping at every sound he picked up as they made their way. When he wasn’t turning paranoid, MacCready was overcome with worry. Understandable, given the situation, especially with this latest development.

 

Liam had started mumbling in his sleep.

 

He hadn’t done that since they had dealt with the Institute.

 

Back then, the overwhelming of unexpected coupled with the stress of needing to go undercover had gotten to the blonde to the point MacCready thought he’d have a breakdown. There had been a lot of restless nights filled with nightmares and sleep muttering.

 

He had later heard from Deacon that after a particular visit to the underground group, Liam had shot off a mini nuke directly at the CIT building with no explanation and then went on a car-exploding spree for the next hour.

 

He rarely had outbursts like that nowadays. For him to be doing anything MacCready associated with that time…

 

What could be going through his fever-wracked head? Fever dreams could be stressful, downright terrifying--

 

“...could try...blindfolded…”

 

\--or none of the above…

 

_What the hell…?_

 

He resisted the urge to turn his head, thinking that maybe if he saw Liam’s face, he could figure out what he was muttering. He’d caught a few words, but couldn’t make sense of them. But MacCready didn’t want to lose sight of Dogmeat. It was pretty dark here and the dog wasn’t exactly a light color. He was easy to lose in the shadows if he wasn’t paying attention.

 

“...add...challenge…”

 

What was he…?

 

No. The sniper snapped his head forward again. Don’t lose sight of Dogmeat. They had to reach Sanctuary fast; losing the dog could mean getting lost and taking even longer to get home and thus taking even longer to get Liam help. _Stop turning your head._

 

Besides, he was probably just dreaming about some everyday thing.

 

“...sure I could…”

 

Maybe he was thinking of all the times MacCready challenged him to pick a lock without looking! That had to be it. “Can you do it blindfolded?” was the exact phrase he used to tease the blonde while hiding how impressed he actually was.

 

Huh. The sniper felt oddly disappointed if that was what his fever dreams consisted of--

 

Was that a giggle?

 

Well, it was more like a quiet snicker from Liam’s mouth accompanied by a slight tremble that usually happened with laughter...but still! He had laughed. What was so--

 

“...try...next time…”

 

...he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

 

…

 

Oh, who was he kidding?

 

MacCready mentally added that to his list of things to ask about later. For now, he needed to catch up with Dogmeat. He had started to slow down enough from his brain halting that the pooch had actually stopped to wait for him. He was staring at him even as his ears continued to monitor the area for any signs of danger. Good dog.

 

The sniper picked up the pace again, or as much as he could while carrying someone who weighed more than he did and being careful not to jostle them. If he hadn’t built up some endurance from all the traveling he’d done in his life, this probably wouldn’t be possible. As it was, his muscles were going to make him pay dearly later. But it would be worth it. Hopefully...

 

At least the sleep talking had stopped.

 

\---

 

Concord had never looked so inviting.

 

They were so close now, the place was practically their front yard.

 

...with the occasional raider infestation. But even so.

 

And they were avoidable if another handful had decided to move in. They never seemed to move far from that Museum or the street that led right up to it, so the side roads running parallel were always quiet.

 

It was down one of these roads Dogmeat led them now. Maybe he had sensed another raider invasion. Or he was cutting some time. Either way, MacCready followed without protest. He was eager to reach their destination. It had taken only a few hours to get here, but every minute Liam went without medical help was one minute too many. He hadn’t stirred since the odd sleep-talking, but that didn’t mean he was in better shape. If anything, that worried the sniper more.

 

As the overly bright lights of the Red Rocket station came into view, his heart pounded as hope flared in his chest. He nearly broke into a run, not even acknowledging the curious beeps of the red sentry bot Ahab as they passed. There were more important things on his mind.

 

_Please don’t let us be too late._

 

\---

 

Cait stretched her arms above her head, a nice buzz going as she exited the bar. After her shift on watch ended, there was nothing she liked better than a few hits of whatever that crazy concoction Deacon created was. No matter how much she tried to coax--i.e. threaten--the recipe out of him, the Railroad agent wouldn’t budge. It was admirable how well he could keep a secret. Even if it did irritate her.

 

Ah well. She’d let him live if it meant he kept brewing that crap up.

 

But it was easily passing midnight now. After a quick walk to cool down, she planned to hit the hay. She almost wished she was assigned to night patrol if only to avoid having the sun beat down on her. But Danse had volunteered that shift, claiming he was used to pulling night watch and was well-suited to it. Whatever…

 

She headed for the front gate, wondering if something might slip past the crazy robots of Red Rocket so she might see a little action for once. It had been too long since she’d picked a good fight.

 

There were no half-beaten raiders or even scared-shitless radstags attempting to cross the bridge. Instead, she could make out two figures jogging over the half-collapsed structure. An oddly-hunched figure that seemed to be struggling to follow behind a lower-to-the-ground four-legged shadow. It took her to a second to realize the smaller form in front was Dogmeat. He’d gone tearing past her just as her shift had ended earlier tonight. She’d wondered where he was headed. And now here he was seemingly leading some lost soul into their home. Surely they were no threat as the robots had let them pass, and the turrets weren’t aiming their sights as they normally would…

 

Wait a sec.

 

The light of the oil lamps on this side of the bridge cast an orange glow across the hunched figure.

 

It wasn’t some oddly-formed person. It was _MacCready_ , hunched over because he was _carrying someone on his back_. And not just someone. It was _Liam_! She’d recognize that blonde head anywhere.

 

What on earth…?

 

“What kind ‘a cockamamie shite didja get yerselves into now?!”

 

As they finally got closer, she managed a better look at the two. MacCready looked like he could fall over any minute. But Liam...well, he looked like shit. She instantly felt guilty for the words that had left her lips. What the hell had happened?

 

“Get Curie.”

 

“What?” She was taken aback by the abrupt command.

 

“Just get Curie. _Now._ ” His eyes had this wild panic about them as he rushed past her, never breaking his speed as he flew down the road.

 

She’d never seen him that frantic before. Feeling a bit of panic begin to rise herself, Cait shut the gate, hurrying to go wake their town physician.

 

\---

 

MacCready rushed into the house, immediately heading straight for the bedroom to sit Liam down on their bed, leaning against the headboard. Not the easiest thing with him carrying the blonde piggyback, but he somehow managed, and started easing off the heavy battlecoat. The only thing on his mind was that they needed to cool him down quick. His thoughts went to how Curie had lowered his fever the time he’d gotten a bad cold--a cool bath.

 

So it was with that in mind that he started to strip Liam of his shirt. This would probably work better with him awake though, and frankly, it felt wrong to just dump him in a tub of water while he was passed out. He would already be pretty disoriented having been carried here while passed out, but to wake up half-submerged in water?

 

MacCready brought up a hand, placing it on Liam’s cheek like he had done before to wake him...and nearly pulled it back as if the heat would scorch his palm, eyes wide with alarm. It was then he noticed the sheen of sweat that had developed. Of course he wouldn’t have noticed that before; he would’ve had to put Liam down to see that. Or how erratic his breathing was becoming.

 

Not good.

 

Screw waking him up at this point; there was no time to lose. MacCready went back to his shirt buttons just as Curie rushed in.

 

She took one look at the situation and placed the back of her palm against Liam’s forehead.

 

All she said was, “I shall go start a bath,” before rushing back out of the room past a worried-looking Cait hanging back in the doorway.

 

The redhead sounded almost scared to speak as she asked in a tiny voice, “What...happened to ‘im?”

 

“I don’t know; he’s just...burning up! I didn’t even know anything was wrong until he almost tripped over his own feet!” He pulled off Liam’s boots, the pants following after.

 

Cait respectfully shifted her eyes away, worry clouding her as she was unsure of what to do. She stepped out of the way as the sniper practically sprinted past her and through the open bathroom door, seeing it shut behind him a second later.

 

“What’s going on?” A small voice muffled by sleep asked from behind her, nearly scaring her out of her skin. She turned to see Liam’s shorter almost-double peeking out from his room, rubbing at one eye--the other still mostly closed--as if he was still off in dreamland. “Did my dad come back?”

 

Crap. What should she tell Shaun? He was a smart kid, but she didn’t want to worry him. She didn’t want to lie to him and say everything was fine either. Because it wasn’t. And he’d just figure it out on his own anyway.

 

Still not really sure what to do, but at least glad she could do _something_ in this whole situation, Cait set a hand on his shoulder, getting a sleepy blink of curiosity. “He did, yes,” she started, trying to be tactful to not send him into a full panic.

 

He blinked again, traces of sleep fading away. “Did something happen?” And there was that sharpness she worried about.

 

She took a deep breath, deciding on the best way to say this. “Well, ya see…” She fumbled for words. “He’s...not feeling too great right now…”

 

\---

 

MacCready couldn’t get him into that tub fast enough, easing Liam’s overly hot form into the half-filled bath and grabbing a nearby washcloth to start soaking as much of him with the luke-warm water as he could. He was barely aware of Curie telling him she would be right back; she needed to go get some tools. The sniper paid her no mind as the door was opened and closed again, leaving him to continue his frantic splashing.

 

\---

 

The door opened again, two sets of eyes snapping towards Curie as she hurriedly stepped from the bathroom and closed it behind her again. She turned to rush back to her house, mentally going over what she would need to run some blood work and identify the cause of Liam’s fever.

 

“What’s going on? Is my dad ok?”

 

She paused, having barely taken two steps down the hallway, and turned back to finally see the curiously concerned gazes (and mildly freaked out in the readhead’s case) of Cait and Shaun. Shaun was looking at her intently as he waited for an answer to his question.

 

Not wanting to leave him in the dark, but also not wanting to cause panic, she put on an attitude of the professional but empathetic doctor. “I do not yet know, but I aim to find out. What I do know for certain is that he has a very high fever, and I will do everything in my power to help him.”

 

That seemed to calm his nerves. Or assure him enough not to panic. Either way, Shaun released the breath he seemed to have been holding and nodded at her in understanding. “We’ll stay out of your way then.”

 

Cait blinked, looking down at him in surprise at just how...mature that statement had been. He really was a brilliant kid. “Uh. Right. Let us know if ya need any help though.” The last part was said as she glanced back at Curie.

 

Curie smiled. “Of course.” With that, she continued on her way, resuming making a list of what materials she would need.

 

\---

 

MacCready dabbed the dampened cloth across Liam’s face, unable to stop staring in case something happened should he look away. His breathing still wasn’t normal, but it seemed to have evened out some. That was somewhat reassuring, but still, the sniper didn’t dare remove him from the tub yet. Not until he got the ok from Curie that he was out of the danger zone. Hopefully she would be back soon. It felt like hours since she’d stepped out the door...but he bet if he could check the time, it would actually just be minutes that had passed.

 

After what seemed like an eternity of worry and stress, he nearly jumped out of his skin when the door suddenly opened again. He let out a breath as Curie shut the door behind her, a medical bag in hand and white lab coat thrown over her dress, looking more like her role of the local medic. There was even a stethoscope around her neck. With an odd mixture of relief and anticipation, the sniper watched as she approached, setting the damp rag aside as she reached to lay her palm across the blonde’s forehead again.

 

He saw her frown thoughtfully, before reaching into the tub for Liam’s hand without batting an eye as she was in full-on physician mode. She took a moment to check a watch she procured as she held onto his wrist, the frown still not leaving her face. MacCready found himself growing more anxious as she stayed silent, jotting something down on a clipboard after she gently lowered his arm again. This time she stood, pulling the stethoscope from her neck to place it in her ears as she walked around to the head of the tub.

 

“If you will lift him up so I have access to his back, please,” she politely requested as she crouched.

 

He did as asked without question, curling an arm around Liam’s shoulders to carefully pull him forward and hold onto him almost protectively as Curie began to listen along the blonde’s upper back. He watched her curiously, wondering what she was finding out as he ran a hand through those golden locks soothingly, more for himself than anything else.

 

She nodded to herself as she moved the stethoscope to various spots around his ribs. The anticipation was building so much from waiting for her prognosis he thought he might explode right on the spot. Finally, with a much more certain nod, she leaned away, pulling the device from her ears as she stood once more. MacCready took this as a cue he could set Liam back into a resting position in the tub, though he did so with reluctance, not wanting to let go just yet. He found his hand subconsciously going back to Liam’s hair as he watched Curie jot something else on that clipboard.

 

Unable to wait any more, he broke the silence. “So...what is it? What’s wrong with him?” His voice cracked a little on the words, some of the growing dread creeping out on its own.

 

He wasn’t sure if Curie was actually answering him, or just quietly listing things to herself as she almost mumbled, “Shortness of breath, erratic pulse, no signs of respiratory distress...an alarming lack of energy...” Worry crept in as she nearly dropped to a whisper. Other than the rhythm of his breathing, Liam hadn’t stirred once this whole time.

 

He found himself looking into hazel-green eyes as she met his straight on. “I suspect an infection of some sort. A rather serious one that has his immune system fighting at its hardest and requiring all of his strength to do so. Unfortunately, my equipment is rather limited, so I fear I will not be able to pinpoint the source…” There was a mournful regret to her voice that did little to instill confidence in him. “But I shall do my best to identify the culprit by running some blood work.

In the meantime, I shall start him on a general antibiotic. Hopefully, it shall hold off the infection or perhaps begin to overpower it while I work on a more...specialized medicine.”

 

She reached for her bag, pulling out a few instruments as he processed what she had said. The way she had put it… It made it sound like Liam was running a never-ending marathon, putting his all into reaching a finish line that seemed impossibly far away. All the time they spent on the road and he’d never gotten this sick before. Sloughing it through disgusting terrain, swimming through murky water, even a few close shaves against various things that wanted to kill them… What could have caused this? He didn’t think they’d done anything too particularly crazy within the last few days…

 

By the time he focused on what Curie was doing again, she had set Liam’s arm on her lap with a rubber strap around his bicep, an empty vial sitting at the ready as she disinfected a spot at the crook of his elbow. MacCready’s stomach clenched reflexively as he knew what was coming next, choosing to look away instead of watch her actually drawing blood. He never liked the sight of needles. Hearing a small sound of discomfort, his eyes flicked to the blonde’s face, seeing him wince as he seemed to be trying to shift away from Curie. That wasn’t good.

 

He thought he caught sight of her trying to keep Liam’s arm still from the corner of his eye, but MacCready’s attention was fixed on his ailing lover as he set a hand on his shoulder, the other resting gently on his cheek as he spoke in a soft voice, “Whoa, easy there Cowboy. You need to keep still for now.”

 

Those normally bright eyes cracked open, confusion clouding them as they drifted around before finally focusing on him.

 

“It’s alright. You’re ok.” He felt like he was trying to calm down a frightened animal, but he wasn’t even sure Liam was aware of what was going on right now, so he might as well be at this point. It seemed to do the trick, though, as he finally relaxed, no longer attempting to pull his arm out of Curie’s grasp. The sniper brushed his fingers through Liam’s hair as his eyes began to droop shut. “It’s ok.” He spoke softly again, not really sure what he was saying but wanting to keep soothing the blond so he wouldn’t panic again. MacCready kept muttering soothing words as the blonde slowly drifted off again.

 

“There we go,” he heard Curie say softly to herself, turning his head slightly in time to see her carefully pull an emptied syringe from Liam’s arm while holding a small bit of cloth to that spot to stop any bleeding, applying light pressure as she reached for a bandage to stick over and keep the cloth in place. “I have given him the first dose of antibiotic,” she explained. He blinked at this, having not realized she had moved on to that already. A sense of relief started to well up, though, since that meant Liam was finally getting some actual help. Maybe it wasn’t too late.

 

“He is also mildly dehydrated from the fever, so I believe it would be best to start him on intravenous fluids to alleviate this and to help maintain a healthy blood pressure,” she continued as she carefully stashed the vial of blood into her bag to keep it safe for now.

 

“Um. Right.” He really wasn’t sure what to say to that anyway.

 

She stood, carefully resting Liam’s arm on the edge of the tub before leaning forward to press the back of her hand to his forehead again. She nodded. “He is still rather warm, but I believe the bath has done all it will to lower his fever. It would be best to get him into bed so he may properly rest and I may set up an IV stand.” She turned her head towards the sniper. “Will you require assistance, Monsieur?”

 

MacCready opened his mouth, about to tell her he had this...but a twinge in his lower back as he moved reminded him of the marathon he had practically run himself in getting Liam here as quickly as he had. “...yea. Actually, I think I might need some help.”

 

Curie smiled knowingly.

 

\---

 

It took some effort--and Curie trying not to lose her composure as she was not accustomed to seeing others nude--but together they managed to get Liam dried off and into bed quickly enough that he wouldn’t be exposed to the air too long and start to feel cold. That would only cause him to shiver, which would start to heat him up again and reverse all the good the bath had done.

 

MacCready sat on the other side of the bed, staring, occasionally dabbing a dampened cloth to the blonde’s forehead to keep the fever under control. He’d gained a glimmer of hope after talking to Curie earlier, but seeing Liam now, still fighting this suspected infection, possibly but uncertainly aided by a general antibiotic, an IV line steadily sending fluid into a vein in his wrist…

 

He couldn’t help but worry. How long before the medication started to work? And would Curie be able to identify the cause? Maybe come up with something better to cure him? Liam dealt with so much crap in this world; he didn’t deserve to deal with this too.

 

MacCready reached out a hand, unable to keep himself from threading fingers through those pale gold locks comfortingly. He sighed.

 

“Come on, Cowboy. You got this.”

 

\---

 

She adjusted the focus of the microscope, zeroing in on what was in front of her. She furrowed her brow, slowly moving the slide to study everything in tiny increments, focusing on the tiny forms as they moved around.

 

Wait. That looked familiar.

 

The dials were turned again, zooming in on a few particular forms that seemed to be locked in battle.

 

Those were white blood cells among the red; easy enough for her to tell. But those other ones...they shouldn’t be there. The white cells were doing their best to try to hold them off, but they were in something of a stalemate with it being hard to tell which side would overpower the other. There was a definite resemblance to something she had heard of in her disease research. It was hard to recall since there had been so much to go through as the secret section of Vault 81 had contained knowledge of all the diseases known to affect humans in the world and many of their cures. It had been her job to know such things.

 

But with her current form and lack of digital memory banks, recalling information was proving much more difficult than it once was.

 

She squinted, fine-tuning the focus even more to bring the picture into better clarity to pick out smaller details--

 

Oh.

 

It hit her.

 

The cells were heavily mutated, but she knew what strain of bacteria this was. Or what it had been at least. She knew what this originated as. She should be able to synthesize a cure. An effective antibiotic to fight it off much better than the broad spectrum one she had administered, at the very least.

 

Feeling a sense of elation and victory--which she attempted to contain as it was too soon to celebrate--Curie got to work, going through her supplies for the necessary ingredients she would need.

 

\---

 

Curie hung up a new bag of IV fluid, glancing over at the two forms on the bed, one half-draped over the other as they slept.

 

After her “eureka!” moment, she had gone through a few different combinations, feeling somewhat like a mad chemist as she experimented until well past the break of morning, finally creating what looked to be an effective medicine. But seeing as it was an untested drug, she’d had to administer it slowly and carefully so as to watch for harmful side effects. She had gotten it to resemble the original treatment that had existed pre-war, but since she had needed to adjust it to compensate for the mutation of the bacteria and the availability--and current form--of materials, she couldn’t be sure how it would take.

 

Luckily enough, he had responded remarkably well to the treatment. It had already been administered for two days now without any noticeable poor side effects. Aside from perhaps causing him to sleep more deeply, but that hardly surprised her. Drowsiness from these types of medications could be common as they could be rather harsh and require quite a bit of energy. He needed the sleep anyway.

 

She had more antibiotics in the works, but hopefully it wouldn’t be needed much longer. Luckily, Liam’s breathing had evened out into that of peaceful sleep and his pulse had returned to a healthier rate. His head was still warm as she checked that too, but the fever had gone down considerably. This was good news. Hopefully they had lowered it before it could become too damaging, but they had been very thorough in cooling him down. She would conduct another blood test to be sure the invaders were truly leaving his system, but for now prognosis was good that he would make a full recovery. What he really needed now was rest and fluids. She aimed to continue him on both for as long as necessary.

 

MacCready had hardly left Liam’s side the whole time, insisting he needed to keep an eye on him. He was bound to get sick himself at this rate--she planned to conduct an exam to be sure he hadn’t contracted something as well from neglecting to rest enough--but she left him where he was, glad he was finally getting some much-needed sleep. The last time she had come in here, she had come close to threatening sedation he looked so drained while insisting he was fine.

 

Confident, but realistically not letting herself get _too_ optimistic--a professional attitude was important to maintain after all--Curie quietly exited the room, leaving the two to rest. She would come back later.

 

\---

 

His head hurt.

 

But it was a dull pain. Tolerable. Some part of him registered that as a good thing, though he wasn’t sure why. Instinctively, he raised a hand to rub at his forehead.

 

Or would have. He couldn’t exactly feel his right arm. With a frown, he tried the other hand, pressing his knuckles to his brow as he carefully cracked open his eyes.

 

And paused.

 

There was a clear tube stuck into the back of his wrist. It took a moment for it to register in his still-waking brain.

 

An IV line.

 

What the hell…?

 

With a tired blink, Liam stared at it for a moment, before slowly drifting his eyes along the line, following it to the half-empty bag on a stand someone had set up near his bed.

 

Wait.

 

His bed?

 

When did he…?

 

It was then he registered a slight weight across his chest, accompanied by a soft rhythm of whooshing air.

 

With another blink, Liam carefully craned his neck to look down. There was indeed an arm draped across his chest, encased in a familiar dull green sleeve and purple faced watch. Clear-blue eyes followed the arm to its owner.

 

The blonde exhaled softly with an equally soft expression. _MacCready…_

 

That explained why he couldn’t feel his right arm. The sniper was curled up next to him, fast asleep with his head on the same pillow Liam was using. Had he somehow managed to get them both back to Sanctuary? He couldn’t really remember anything beyond nearly turfing it on the uneven road. And then the difficult hike to find shelter for the night. And then...nothing. He wanted to ask what happened after, but…

 

For the moment, Liam just watched him sleep, studying the new lines he swore he could find in MacCready’s face. Those shouldn’t be there. He frowned, a sense of guilt washing over him for causing those lines to appear. He wanted to run his hand along them, smooth them away if he could.

 

His hand seemed to move of its own accord to do just that. Before he’d really decided if he was going to, he found himself tracing some of the deeper lines marring the sniper’s forehead. They had always made him seem older than he actually was, and they definitely seemed more exaggerated now.

 

Suddenly, MacCready frowned, scrunching up the side of his face in his sleep. Liam froze. He waited a moment, worried he had accidentally woken him up without meaning to. A few breaths later, the sniper shifted a little, settling back into slumber with a soft sigh.

 

Liam slowly released the breath he had been holding, carefully pulling his hand back to rest on his stomach as he studied the sniper’s sleeping face again. It wasn’t long before sleep began to call him back as well. He fought it off for as long as he could, wanting to take in the image of MacCready beside him just a little longer. But he found himself drifting off as slumber took hold, subconsciously moving his head closer until their foreheads touched as his eyes slowly drifted shut once more.

 

\---

 

There was movement on the edge of his awareness. Very slight at first, with a lazy sort of shifting and a whooshing of air across his face.

 

But then a small sharp sound. A quick intake of breath very closeby.

 

A comforting weight lifted from his chest. Some part of his mind missed it right away, but ceased its protesting when a warmth brushed the side of his face, starting at the brow and resting on his cheek. He moved his face into it involuntarily, sighing softly as he felt it tuck a bit of hair behind his ear.

 

It lingered there for a moment, lightly tangled in the strands, before he felt a soft warmth press against his brow. It drew away almost reluctantly, as the warmth by his ear passed over his cheek again, rougher than the other warmth he noticed, but in a familiar way that warmed his heart as well as the blanket of slumber draped over him again.

 

\---

 

Liam slowly blinked his eyes open, hearing the cheerful chirping of whatever songbird still lived in the area. He had never figured out what kind of bird it was; it seemed to be a master of camouflage. Speaking of beings he couldn’t see… MacCready was nowhere in sight. Just a rumpled spot on the bed where he had been before. Liam had no idea how long ago he’d left it. The spot wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t really warm anymore either.

 

His head felt much clearer as he looked around the room, noticing he was still in his bed at their Sanctuary home. Sunlight streamed in brightly through a gap in the curtains. Had it been daytime the last time he’d woken up? He hadn’t been paying attention.

 

What time was it anyway? He’d completely lost track. But the better question was, how long had he been out? He cast his eyes about, looking for his pip-boy. It wasn’t on his wrist--he was hardly surprised by this, assuming it would’ve been in the way of the IV line that was still held securely in place by what looked like medical tape--but hopefully whoever had taken it off had placed it nearby. He must have been in pretty shit shape to need IV.

 

Ah, there was his target on the bedside table. Liam extended his arm, feeling a little stiff as he stretched for the wrist-mounted computer, flipping the switch to bring up the date and time triumphantly.

 

…

 

He slowly lowered the pip-boy from his view, staring slack-faced at the ceiling. He really had been in shit shape. Unless the thing had glitched out and was wrong, he had been asleep for three days. What the fuck had happened??

 

He snapped his attention to the door as voices reached his ear.

 

“...had to have woken up sometime!”

 

His heart jolted, recognizing the sniper’s voice immediately and the excited hope it contained.

 

“Monsieur, it is quite possible he merely shifted in his sleep…”

 

MacCready almost cut Curie off. “No, you don’t get it!” He was nearly hysterical now. “This wasn’t like he just moved a little! His forehead was touching mine. Why else would he do that if he didn’t wake up?!”

 

Unperturbed, she continued in a calming manner. “I do not doubt that he is improving more, but let us check on him to be sure, yes?”

 

“...yea, ok…”

 

As the voices got louder and clearer, Liam realized he was still holding the pip-boy in his hands for no reason. He carefully stretched for the bedside table again, arm shaking a little from a surprising lack of strength...

 

...and completely misjudged the edge of the table, causing it to land on the floor with a distinct _thunk!_

 

He grimaced at the sound.

 

Silence.

 

Then some frantic footsteps before the door was thrown open.

 

There stood MacCready, hair slightly damp with a towel draped over his shoulders, staring wide-eyed in disbelief as if unsure whether he was imagining things.

 

Liam shifted his eyes, still somewhat leaning from the bed with his arm hovering above open air. “Um…” His voice cracked a little from disuse. Clearing his throat, he brought his gaze back to the sniper’s, giving an awkward wave as he greeted, “Good morning?”

 

His breath left him in a rush as arms suddenly engulfed him in a tight embrace. “Don’t scare me like that again!”

 

He blinked over MacCready’s shoulder as Curie stepped into the room, looking pleasantly surprised at him before turning to busy herself with the IV stand to give them a moment.

 

“All I did was drop my pip-boy…” His half-hearted attempt at humor was cut off as the sniper squeezed him harder, bordering on uncomfortable.

 

“You know what I mean!” There was a crack to his voice as he felt something warm splash his shoulder.

 

Liam exhaled, his features softening as he carefully raised his arms, being mindful of the IV line as he hugged him back. “Sorry…” He mumbled into his neck.

 

The arms tightened around him briefly in response.

 

They stayed that way for awhile, clinging to each other as if it would be the last time. The relief--not to mention endless worry from the past few days--practically rippled from MacCready like waves of radiation. He didn’t need a Geiger counter to tell that. Liam wasn’t sure how long they embraced, but he wasn’t complaining, turning his face more into the sniper’s neck as he kept holding on, running a hand through his damp hair soothingly. He assumed he’d showered recently if the towel he’d dropped as he rushed in was any indication. ...Liam vaguely wondered if he needed a shower himself.

 

A hesitant voice cut into their moment, as if not wanting but needing to interrupt. “If I may, Monsieurs? I would like to run a quick check-up of Monsieur Liam now that he has awoken...”

 

MacCready’s arms tightened around the blonde for a second, as if he was refusing to relinquish his grip...before he finally parted from Liam with noticeable reluctance. He didn’t move far though, watching closely as Curie stepped forward to check his vitals. She went about checking his pulse, his temperature, even listening to his abdomen a bit--he hadn’t realized he was shirtless before that point--writing her observations down with a pleased expression, before turning back to him with the stethoscope back in her ears.

 

“Are you able to sit up, Monsieur?”

 

He frowned, a little unsure, even as he tried raising himself up on his elbows from his reclining position. His muscles shook from the effort, though, reminding him that he must have been pretty ill the past three days.

 

The sniper was next to him right away--how had he gotten to the other side of the bed so fast?--slinging an arm around him to help him into a sitting position. He shot a grateful look over his shoulder as he leaned against MacCready, just that small effort making him aware of how drained he was.

 

Curie had watched this carefully, a small frown marring her brow. She wrote down a few more notes, her pen pausing as she looked up again (was that a hint of guilt he saw in her eyes?), instructing him to take deep breaths as she placed the stethoscope on his back. This was giving him flashbacks to every pre-war doctor’s visit he’d ever had, carefully inhaling and exhaling as the cold disc made contact with his skin. Finally, she nodded to herself, stepping back to write something else down.

 

“How are you feeling, Monsieur? Any noticeable aches? Light-headedness? Nausea perhaps?”

 

He shook his head. “Just tired, mostly…”

 

She nodded. “Yes, that is to be expected. You were running a very high fever for a few days, which has thankfully broken. It would seem you contracted a serious bacterial infection, of which I was able to synthesize an effective antibiotic for that has been aiding you.”

 

He blinked at this. “Ok.” That certainly explained everything. He wasn’t really sure what else to say to that, so… “...thank you?” He swore MacCready snorted.

 

Curie simply nodded, smiling warmly at him. “It would also be best if you eat something to help regain your strength--when you are up for it,” she added on, interpreting his grimace correctly as showing how little that appealed to him right now. Though that was probably _because_ he hadn’t eaten anything in days. Once he started to, though, Liam bet he would suddenly be ravenous. ...but not now. Just...no.

 

He felt MacCready nod behind him. “I’ll make sure he does.”

 

He didn’t have a response to that as Curie simply nodded again, accepting the sniper’s words. Hopefully he’d have an appetite by that point; he didn’t want to cause any more worry than he had already.

 

“I shall return soon to run some bloodwork. In the meantime, get some more rest. You are far from fully recovered.”

 

Liam resisted the urge to groan out a sarcastic “yes, _Mom_ ,” instead managing a small nod before she left the room again.

 

\---

 

Liam woke up slowly, feeling comfortably warm. He started to shift, smiling softly as a pair of arms tightened around him.

 

“Hey, Sleepyhead.” The words were murmured softly into his ear.

 

He sighed out a, “Hey,” in response, opening his eyes to see MacCready’s scruff-covered chin a few inches away, to the side of his face. He was still sitting up leaning against the sniper, MacCready apparently deciding to keep holding onto him as he slept. Not that Liam minded, but that couldn’t be too comfortable for him.

 

“Curie took some more blood a little while ago.”

 

He blinked, clearing the sleep from his eyes so he could check his arm. There was indeed a bandage at the bend of his elbow where he hadn’t noticed one before. Huh.

 

“You were pretty out of it when she came back,” MacCready continued as if he’d read the blonde’s thoughts. “Didn’t even notice she was doing anything.”

 

“I am still pretty tired…” he pointed out. Hell, he hadn’t even noticed he’d fallen asleep until he’d woken up again.

 

“Yea...I’m not surprised. This thing was kicking your as--” He cut off the swear out of habit. “--it was kicking you pretty hard.”

 

Brow drawn, he cast his gaze towards his pip-boy, seeing that someone had picked it up and placed it back on the bedside table. “Has it really been three days…?”

 

“Closer to four now...but yea.” There was a slight quiver to the edge of his voice...and then MacCready turned his face to bury it in Liam’s hair, tightening his arms around him. “You had me really worried.”

 

Liam exhaled with a soft frown, bringing his hands up to cover the sniper’s arms. “I’d like to promise it’ll never happen again, but…”

 

The arms tightened around him in a brief squeeze. “I know.”

 

They sat like that for awhile, the blonde trying to silently send out waves of reassurance as he stroked a thumb across one of MacCready’s wrists. Finally, MacCready released a sigh, his breath warming the back of Liam’s neck. “Did you know you talk in your sleep when you’re sick?”

 

Liam blinked, having not expected that question. “I didn’t.” A small thread of anticipation was beginning. “Why?” Had he said something bad? Strange, maybe? Why else would he bring it up otherwise?

 

The sniper seemed a little hesitant to answer. “When we were on our way here…well...I guess I should say when we _started_ to come here, you said something...and then you said something else later while we were on the road.”

 

He nodded, trying to follow as the words were borderline babbling. “Ok…” He was running a complete blank on what he might’ve said, and not knowing when he was usually in pretty good control of his words was rather worrying. “So what did I say exactly…?” he prompted for continuation.

 

There was a small hesitation. “Ok, so...somehow, Dogmeat found us in that rundown building we hauled up in after you almost turfed it. Don’t ask me how; you know more than me how much of a miracle worker that mutt is…” He just raised a bemused brow at the exasperation in the sniper’s voice, knowing very well what he meant. There were a few times he suspected the dog had some sort of supernatural...something to him. He cut short those thoughts as MacCready continued. “We were starting to leave to come back here, and you just--asked where we were going...so I said we were going home. But you seemed confused, and kept insisting something about me being home. I couldn’t really figure out what you meant. But you calmed down when I said I was with you.” Liam didn’t fail to miss the questioning lilt to MacCready’s voice. He was asking if the blonde possibly knew what that meant.

 

Liam didn’t remember saying those words, or any form of them.

 

Not out loud anyway.

 

In his head, on the other hand…

 

It was pretty silly, really, but...there was a part of him that, when he looked at the sniper, would just think, _home._ It was so incredibly corny, and he felt too embarrassed to admit that was what he felt on a daily basis, so he wasn’t sure he wanted to explain--

 

Wait.

 

Liam slowly turned his head to look MacCready straight in the eye over his shoulder. “Did you say Dogmeat found us?” He pressed on at the blink and nod he received. “No one else?” Another nod, this one with the start of an unsure frown. “So you managed to get back here safely with only Dogmeat’s help.” It was a statement; not a question. He waited for a sign of confirmation, not sure he was going to get one as those dark blue eyes slid away from his almost guiltily for a moment, before MacCready looked back and nodded again, much more hesitantly than he had before.

 

Liam stared for a minute. Then he slowly shook his head, expression melting into a hybrid somewhere between exasperation and amused disbelief. He held off the face palming with hysterical laughter he was tempted to fall into.

 

“You dragged a sick person--a _delirious_ sick person--back wi--”

 

“I carried you on my back,” MacCready cut in to correct him.

 

“You _carried_ a delirious sick person _on your back_ ,” he amended with a wry smirk, “with no one but a _dog_ to accompany you, through the wasteland, getting past who knows what...and somehow got back here without any trouble.” It was a wonder any of them were alive.

 

The sniper shifted his eyes away again, definitely looking guilty now. “...uh...it was also night?”

 

Liam held back the grin that threatened to crack his face. “And it was night.” By this point, it was getting difficult to hold in the laughter. Bits of it were leaking free, causing him to tremble with the effort. The look on MacCready’s face wasn't helping. A snort slipped free, the confused blink it received finally cracking his resolve enough to send him into a snickering giggling fit as he dropped his forehead against MacCready’s neck.

 

“...did I miss the joke or something?”

 

Liam grinned, unseen, just managing to quell his laughter enough to speak (though a few snickers still slipped free). “I could kiss you right now if I wasn't afraid I might be contagious.”

 

“Um…” He swore he could feel the confused blinking in that voice. And maybe the questioning of his sanity. Liam wouldn't blame him if he was. It was just...the ridiculousness of the situation… How could he _not_ laugh?

 

With another small chuckle, the blonde raised his head again, seeing the confusion--and growing concern--that was indeed coloring the sniper’s face. His amusement ceased, expression softening into a smile as he brought a hand to rest on MacCready’s cheek. “That was incredibly reckless and a foolish thing to do, but I know you wouldn't have taken such a risk without good reason.”

 

MacCready didn't say anything; only looked back at him silently. Liam was starting to grow concerned himself and was about to open his mouth to ask if something was wrong…

 

...except a hand came up to grip his own as the sniper’s mouth descended on his. The thought crossed his mind to protest; this wasn't a good idea until they knew if he was contagious or not. But it lasted only a brief moment before it was clouded away in the sensations of that desperate kiss. It left him feeling dazed, to the point that it took him a second after MacCready pulled back to realize that the kiss had ended.

 

\---

 

MacCready watched as Liam blinked, regaining his senses. Yes, kissing him right now was probably foolish, but he didn't care. He had been wanting to do that since the blonde had first woken up. He was just glad he was ok.

 

He brought the hand he still held in front of his face, pressing his lips to it briefly. “You didn't actually tell me if you knew what those words meant,” he prompted, earning another blink.

 

He waited a moment for Liam’s brain to catch up, seeing when he realized what the sniper meant. “Ah... Well, I don't remember saying them, so…” He shrugged lightly with one shoulder. “It could mean anything really. And it's not like I'd know what I was thinking if it was the fever talking…”

 

That was kind of evasive, like Liam was trying to charm his way out of this. He creased his brow. “Not even an idea? A guess?”

 

The side of his face scrunched into a half-frown. “It's hard to make a guess when you don't remember.” He seemed more earnest. Either it was the truth or that practiced mask was in place. Either way, it didn't seem like he'd learn any more on it.

 

MacCready frowned, slightly disappointed that he hadn't found out, but forcing himself to move on. If it was important, Liam would tell him (if he actually did know something), and he didn't feel like prying too much when the blonde was still recovering. “Ok… So what about the other thing?” He mentally compiled together the snippets he'd caught his ailing lover muttering. “It was about…’trying something blindfolded’?” he questioned. “You seemed pretty sure about whatever it was, too.” He really hoped to get some insight on this one. Especially with the way Liam had giggled after saying it.

 

Blue-gray eyes stared back at him, giving one slow blink as if to process the words, but not revealing anything going on behind them. MacCready was about to assume the silence meant he wasn't going to get an answer. Maybe he didn't know what it meant either. He frowned, about to say it was alright; they could change the subject. He should really get Liam to eat something while he was awake anyw--

 

“I may know what that means actually.”

 

The sniper blinked, having not expected that. “You do?” It was a challenge not to sound too eager to finally find out something. “What is it?”

 

“I think I do, yea...but I'm not sure it's a good idea to tell you, given the...current situation…” Was that a blush forming? “There is something I was going to bring up at some point, even if that's not what I was talking about. But I'm pretty sure it is, because what else could it be…” He was starting to ramble! And that slight blush was still there. Whatever it was, MacCready just had to know now. But he didn't think it was a good idea? The sniper frowned.

 

“Why can't you tell me?”

 

Those bright eyes flicked away in what he was sure was embarrassment. “Let's just say...I think I was talking about an idea I had…and right now is just as bad of a time to explain as when I fever spoke it…” Liam’s gaze met his again. “I will tell you later, though. When I'm more recovered.”

 

...now he was just intrigued.

 

“That a promise?”

 

He received a nod. “Yea.”

 

“Alright. I guess I can wait then. But in the meantime…” Now was as good a time as any to change the subject since this one was--for the moment--done. “Think you might be able to eat something?”

 

Liam blinked as if he hadn't expected that. “Um…honestly?” He shook his head once. “I have no idea.”

 

“Would you be able to try at least?” He put every ounce of persuasion he could into his words, raising his brows to add to the effect.

 

The blonde sighed in defeat. “Fine. I guess I can try.”

 

MacCready smiled in silent victory, pecking an almost-pouting Liam on the forehead before he carefully maneuvered his way free from taking the place of the headboard. His back was going to be yelling at him all week at this rate from the abuse he kept putting it through. The sniper ignored it for now, making his way to the door after making sure his lover was situated comfortably so he could rest while he waited.

 

“Guess I get to dust off my cooking skills then. Hopefully I’m not too rusty...”

 

“Just as long as you don’t poison me by accident.”

 

He turned back, about to point out that he’d only gotten sick _once_ off of his own cooking, and that was back when _no one had taught him yet_ \--but spotted the cheeky smirk painting the blonde’s face. MacCready snapped his mouth shut, realizing he was being teased, and opted to stick his tongue out at the blonde instead. He didn’t miss the soft chuckling coming from the room as he exited, the sound lightening his heart with relief.

 

\---

 

“How's Dad doing?” MacCready looked up to find a pair of bright eyes watching him from over the back of the couch as he exited the hallway. He was taken aback for a second, the resemblance to Liam striking him like it sometimes did, but recovered quickly enough to remember to answer.

 

“He's doing a lot better.” The short debate of whether to give too many details was quashed down right away. Shaun was a smart kid; he deserved to know what was going on. “He isn't exactly sick anymore, but he is still pretty weak. I'm going to get him to eat something finally to help him get his strength back.”

 

He got a nod in response, the concern still lingering there, but overshadowed by obvious relief. “I know he’s in good hands.”

 

An idea suddenly struck him as he studied that eager gaze. MacCready felt bad that Shaun hadn't been able to do anything. No one blamed or even expected him to; he was just a kid after all. A very brilliant and secretly synth kid who liked to tinker and build weapon mods...but a kid nonetheless. He didn't need to be an expert at everything. But he did like to be useful... With a thoughtful frown, the sniper decided something. “Hey, you know what? I might need some help with this. I’m not a half bad cook, but I’m nowhere near as good as your dad is. Think you can give me a hand?”

 

The boy’s eyes lit up. “Sure!” He rushed over, eager to finally be doing something to help his father. It was obvious in the way he'd brightened up just from such a simple task as helping to make a meal.

 

MacCready set a hand on the boy’s blonde head with a smile--almost the same shade as Liam’s--as he surveyed what they had to work with in the fridge. “I'm thinking we try to make his favorite. Rad stag stew…”

 

\---

 

He rubbed at his wrist, resisting the urge to remove the bandage stuck there, covering the spot where the IV line had been. Knowing how much Curie would disapprove was the only thing that kept it in place. Even if it did itch like hell right now.

 

With a heavy exhale, Liam dropped his head onto the back of the couch where he sat in the living room, shutting his eyes as he tried to ignore the annoying bandage. He'd managed to convince “the doc” to let him get out of bed, having begun to go a little stir crazy after a few days of seeing the same walls and ceiling. But he was still pretty drained. He'd been told that could last a few more days at least and to take it easy for awhile. In the words of Curie… “No going off to get yourself shot at, Monsieur.”

 

He snorted humorously to himself at that. With the way MacCready was mother hen-ing him, he’d be lucky to leave the settlement any time this month. At least he no longer needed the antibiotics.

 

A slight weight and warmth on his thigh accompanied by a soft whine broke Liam from his thoughts. Cracking his eyes open, he caught sight of big brown canine eyes looking up at him with concern.

 

He smiled at the dog. “Hey there, boy.” Dogmeat’s ears perked up. “I hear I have you to thank for Mac and me getting back here in one piece.” He swore the dog broke into a grin as his tail wagged behind him. Liam scratched at one of those big ears, earning a wet-nosed nuzzle at his wrist. He chuckled softly at the coldness of it, relaxing back into the cushions at the sense of contentment he felt.

 

He must have dozed off, because he opened his eyes to find Dogmeat nowhere in sight, his senses instead picking up the scent and sound of dinner being prepared.

 

Liam turned his head, watching the sniper as he stood at the stove. He thought he could pick up the scent of brahmin in the air, possibly the tomato-like sweetness of tatoes, and a few other things he couldn’t quite place right now. Intriguing.

 

MacCready’s cooking was improving, though he didn’t seem to be straying from the realm of soups and stews. They were a bit simpler to handle compared to roasts since you could see everything as it cooked, but Liam suspected the sniper wanted to stick to foods that were easier to eat while he was still recovering. He wasn’t complaining; the gesture was appreciated. And it did smell pretty good…

 

At least his hunger drive had kicked back in. He hadn’t been sure about eating anything the other day when MacCready had insisted he try, but the second his lover had walked in with that steaming bowl of stew and the scent had hit his nose…

 

He swore he had scared the sniper with the amount of enthusiasm his appetite had shown. It was a miracle he hadn’t eaten the spoon too!

 

...ok, so that might be an exaggeration. But he had been pretty ravenous.

 

Liam figured that might continue while he still lacked energy. He’d never gotten that sick before, so he could only assume. At least it meant he was definitely on the path to recovery. He hadn’t missed the relief sparkling in MacCready’s deep blue eyes.

 

The sniper hadn’t seemed to notice the scrutiny he was under as he stood at the stove, possibly too engrossed in his current task. A slow smirk curled the blonde’s lip as an idea hit him. There was a low chance he would pull this off, seeing as his lover could be very perceptive and Liam himself wasn’t at 100% yet. But since MacCready was so focused and he hadn’t acknowledged the other presence in the room having awoken...

 

The sudden mischief streak was too tempting to ignore.

 

Keeping gray-blue eyes glued to the sniper, he carefully braced his arms on the couch, slowly pushing himself from the cushions to avoid making as much noise as possible. His muscles shook from the effort, needing more time to recover--though they were nowhere near the level of weakness he’d had the other day--but he ignored them, focusing more on trying not to get caught before he’d even really set his plan into motion. So far so good.

 

_Step one complete._

 

His body hadn’t liked that, but too bad. It would get over it. Now for the tricky part: edging away from the couch and around the breakfast counter that separated the living room area from the kitchen so he was no longer in MacCready’s line of sight.

 

He carefully shuffled sideways, instinctively slowing his breathing so it would be less noticeable--there was a reason he had been known as the “sneaky guy” in his army squadron--keeping his gaze trained on the other as he oh-so-slowly managed to reach the other side of the counter. It was testament to his skills that he’d gotten that far despite his current weakness.

 

Now for the final phase. No time to get cocky.

 

It seemed like an eternity as Liam carefully placed his feet as silently as he could manage to inch closer to the sniper. Part of him expected to get caught at any second, MacCready turning around with a bemused smirk or a bewildered frown at his antics, possibly growing more amused at Liam’s (failed) attempt to sneak up on him…

 

But no such expression came. Not even a pause in movement to indicate a sign of noticing anyone was behind him. Apparently MacCready really was that focused on his cooking. This could be interesting.

 

The blonde watched, maintaining careful control of his breathing as he waited, looking for the perfect opportunity to strike.

 

The wooden spoon was swirled through the pot’s contents once more before it was tapped of its excess on the metal rim and held aloft to the side.

 

_Now!_

 

The distance was closed as arms slid around MacCready’s waist, earning a surprised gasp and a tensing of shoulders.

 

Before he might react badly at being grabbed, Liam brought his mouth close to the sniper’s ear, nearly brushing it as he murmured, “What’s cookin, good lookin?”

 

_Damn it, Liam, what the hell was that?!_

 

The urge to facepalm at himself for that cheesy line was strong.

 

It had the desired effect, though, MacCready releasing a breath as a snort as he looked over his shoulder. “You dork.”

 

Liam just smirked sheepishly.

 

The sniper chuckled, the relief in his voice obvious. “Someone’s feeling better then.”

 

He hummed a little in response, keeping his arms around MacCready’s waist as he rested his chin on the other’s shoulder to watch him return to his task. “Still not 100% yet, but I’m getting there.” He had a clear view of the pot’s contents finally. There was definitely a base made up of tatoes, bits of shredded brahmin, and…

 

Huh. Who knew silt beans could be used to make a version of chili. He might need to take this idea and tweak it later.

 

“Hmm… That smells pretty good.”  
  


“It’s one of my few ‘specialties’. I’ve seen a lot of different foods mentioned in some of the books I’ve read, even found a few cookbooks…but a lot of it didn’t make any sense, or the ingredients don’t really exist anymore. Chili was one of the first things I could figure out, even if it’s not exactly like the recipes.”

 

“I’d say you managed pretty well.”

 

MacCready almost seemed to preen under the words. “Just wait until you taste it.”

 

“I'm sure it'll be worth the wait.”

 

He wasn't sure how long they stood there, MacCready continuing to occasionally stir the pot of chili while Liam continued to watch him do so over his shoulder. Standing here like this, just enjoying the moment… It was nice. It gave him that sense of _home_.

 

He must have sighed, because suddenly MacCready was turning his head towards him, brows slightly raised.

 

“Something wrong?”

 

Liam just smiled, shaking his head. “Nah. Just thinking how…” He shrugged, trying to find the right word. “...nice this is. Not having anything trying to attack us or needing our attention… That doesn't happen too often.”

 

“And whose fault is that?” the sniper shot back, though there was no malice behind the words; just the warm hint of teasing. “You're the one who's always dragging us off to find who-knows-what adventure to get into.”

 

He snorted. “Fair enough.”

 

“I just didn't think you'd take me so seriously that day when I said we should look for more mischief.”

 

Liam smirked. “I thought you would've known better by then.”

 

MacCready’s shoulder shook in a bit of a laugh. “I guess I should have.”

 

Liam dropped his chin back onto MacCready’s shoulder with a small smile, tightening his arms around the sniper in a brief hug that was reciprocated by a hand coming up to squeeze one of his own.

 

As he continued to watch the chili being tended to, those words from before kept spinning to the surface, wanting to break free.

 

_Home is wherever you are with me._

 

Such a corny sentiment.

 

But so very true.

 

…

 

_Oh hell with it._ They were already lovestruck idiots. What was one more syrupy thing to add to the list?

 

\---

 

It was comforting, having Liam’s arms around him and feeling some of the strength returned to them. He seemed content to keep resting his head on MacCready’s shoulder, and the sniper was content to let him, enjoying the contact he had missed.

 

“So, I...might actually know what those words mean…”

 

MacCready blinked, stilling the spoon in his hand. “Uh…” That had come out of nowhere. “What words?” As he questioned, realization struck out the blank he’d drawn. “Wait, you mean the--”  
  
“From when I was sick, yea,” the blonde finished for him.

 

“You figured it out?” He tried not to sound on the desperate side of eager to know.

 

An admirable failure. He was no Charmer after all.

 

“I’ve actually known since you told me about them…”

 

Wait--another blink--Liam had known. That meant he’d been hiding it, keeping it a secret from him. But he stopped that train of thought, registering the heavy guilt coloring Liam’s voice. That meant he hadn’t liked hiding it from him...

 

“So why didn’t you tell me then?” He did a better job of hiding the hint of annoyance he felt. There was always a good reason for Liam to hide anything, even if it was from the one he should trust the most.

 

He was _not_ bitter.

 

“Well, it’s…” He swore the side of his neck was feeling a little warmer suddenly. “...kind of corny…” Was Liam blushing?? “And I wasn’t really sure I wanted to say.”

 

…

 

_Seriously?_

 

MacCready slowly turned his head to level a flat stare, if only a sidelong one. “Have you never heard me speak?” Considering half the things he said to the blonde...

 

Liam was worried about sounding corny??

 

Blue-gray eyes shifted from his. He was definitely blushing. “Yea...I realize how silly that sounds now…”

 

“I thought you would've known better by then.”

 

Liam's eyes whipped back over to catch the upturn of a lip as his own words were thrown back at him. He blinked, snorting with a smirk of his own. “I really should have, shouldn't I.”

 

The sniper snickered, returning his attention to the chili, lest it burn. “So, what _do_ those words from before mean?”

 

“I almost don't wanna tell you now.”

 

MacCready opened his mouth with a furrowed brow, about to protest--but caught sight of the mischief sparkle lighting up Liam's eyes. He shut his mouth, furrowing his brow further to seem more annoyed than he actually was.

 

Liam just laughed, arms tightening around MacCready again as his stomach shook with mirth. “I'm just kidding! Don't look at me like that. Besides, you know I just think it's adorable.”

 

The sniper huffed, but dropped the act, letting a small smile free at the warmth he felt.

 

“So...those words…?” he prompted as he turned his eyes back to the chili again. There was no way he was going to let Liam get away with not telling him. Not when he’d admitted to knowing their meaning.

 

\---

 

MacCready was very insistent right now, wasn’t he? Not that Liam could blame him. He’d withheld information he should’ve told him about after all. He’d probably feel the same if their positions had been switched.

 

Not that he’d liked withholding. It was just...a really silly reason to hold back; he knew that now.

 

Shut up.

 

“Don’t laugh, but…” Never a good way to start, but too late now. He’d started, he’d finish; no going back. “... _you’re_ home to me.” The sniper seemed to go still at those words. Liam continued, finding this oddly difficult, but at the same time liberating. A familiar sensation really...

 

“Wherever we are, whatever we’re getting up to--as long as you’re with me...that’s home,” he ended with a heavy breath. A sigh really, that seemed to uncoil the tension he’d felt from keeping this secret.

 

_My heart. My soul. My grounding light._

 

His mind really wanted to stay in the corny zone these days, didn’t it?

 

And his face was determined to stay red it seems. He turned a little more towards the sniper’s neck, tempted to hide it.

 

…

 

The fact that MacCready wasn’t saying anything didn’t help. He also hadn’t moved.

 

“So, um...yea. Pretty corny, right? But it’s...how I feel, so...yea…”

 

_Charmer has left the building. Repeat, Charmer has left the building._

 

His face was practically part of MacCready’s hair now.

 

The sniper finally did move then. He set the wooden spoon aside. Turned off the burner on the stove top.

 

Liam let out a small sound when he felt a hand grip his wrist, trying to loosen his hold. A thousand thoughts flew through his head, all of them bringing about a sense of panic and worry. Had he done something wrong? Was it bad that he thought that? Or said it? Maybe he should’ve kept it secret. Maybe--

 

MacCready turned in his grasp; flashed him a slightly watery smile. Wrapped his arms around Liam’s neck and drew him into a kiss.

 

_Oh._

 

Ok.

 

That was as far as his thoughts got before the emotions in that kiss flooded them away.

 

Quite literally.

 

\---

 

Those words.

 

They were just like…

 

_He couldn’t promise her much. She knew that. Neither of them were rich. There was no guarantee they would even earn enough caps to get a place of their own. And yet…_

 

“ _Ah, it doesn’t matter,” she had said, a smile curling her lips. “As long as you’re there, wherever we are is home enough for me.”_

 

Liam’s words…

 

“ _As long as you’re with me, that’s home.”_

 

They were the same as Lucy’s.

 

He never thought he’d hear anything like that again.

 

And yet here he was, with this wondrous man who was just too good for this world. That he never thought he’d end up with… Hoped he’d never have to lose…

 

Stirring up feelings he never thought he’d feel again…

 

The kiss was becoming saltier as his tears dripped down-- _When did I start crying?_ \--but neither of them seemed to care. Liam certainly didn’t seem to mind, clinging to the back of the sniper’s shirt as he was.

 

They finally separated when the need for air became too great. But not too far. Only enough to gain some breathing space, keeping close enough to rest their foreheads together. MacCready sighed contentedly, opening his eyes in time to see Liam do the same, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a soft smile. Red color was still staining his cheeks, but at least it was no longer from fever.

 

“So…” A hand came up to gently brush a few tears from his cheek. “...I take it that was a good reaction.”

 

That caused a few chuckles to escape, still a bit on the watery side. “Yea…” he nudged his head forward, bumping his forehead against Liam’s. “You dork.” The things he did to him sometimes.

 

Liam just smiled at him, wiping away a few more tears before pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth, catching some stray drops that lingered in his short beard. MacCready practically melted.

 

Sighing happily, he pulled the other close again, parting only to settle his head on Liam’s shoulder.

 

The chili could wait a few minutes. It was basically done anyway, and hadn’t been off of the heat that long yet.

 

He felt a hand idly stroking at his hair.

 

“So...about that...other thing I said in my sleep…”

 

MacCready cracked his eyes open, attention immediately caught, noting that the hand had stilled. Was Liam blushing again? “Yea…?” He kept his voice neutral, hiding how curious he was to find out what the “blindfolded” remarks had been about. At least he was explaining without being prompted this time. Though Liam had admitted he’d known the meaning of them and would tell him eventually, so...

 

“Let’s just say...I’vebeenthinkingabouttryingsomethingmoreadventurous.”

 

The sniper blinked rapidly in succession, nearly shaking his head as if that would break the hurried sounds apart into some semblance of words. He had to take a second to pick them apart, not sure he’d get a response if he asked the blonde to repeat them. Liam was already bright red and avidly avoiding making eye contact with MacCready. He furrowed his brow, slowly making sense of the rushed statement.

 

_Something more…adventurous...?_

 

…

 

Wait.

 

Did that mean…

 

_Oh._

 

MacCready felt himself blushing as well, brows going high.

 

Well then. That was...interesting.

 

“If it’s...a silly idea, then…”

 

It was way too cute, watching the blonde get flustered, especially since it hardly ever happened. But the sniper took pity on him, cutting him off with a quick kiss before he could get _too_ embarrassed. Or more than he already was.

 

Liam blinked, caught off guard, but finally no longer looking away.

 

MacCready just quirked a small smirk. “I don’t know. Could be...interesting to try out something new…”

 

The unsure, almost “deer-in-headlights” look slowly morphed into one of understanding, brow lifting with a hint of mischief and...something else.

 

“Of course, we should probably wait until you're fully recovered first. Check in with the doc maybe.”

 

That seemed to sober the mischief some, replacing it with an almost-frown. “Right…”

 

Liam’s stomach chose that moment to grumble.

 

The sniper smirked down at it as the blonde’s blush returned. “And then there's that. I should probably finish cooking before you starve on me.”

 

A chuckle was his response--“Point taken.”--as he was allowed to return to his task, though not without a closely hovering audience.

 

He also wondered where they were going to get blindfolds, but, knowing Liam, he had already figured that out.

 

Even though this hadn't been planned, and the circumstances that caused it were less than ideal, it was good to be getting some downtime.

 


End file.
